Of Desperation and Grief
by Starlighttwinkle
Summary: FINAL CHAPTER UP. I am frustrated. Frustrated with my incompetence, frustrated with my family, frustrated with my weakness, and frustrated... frustrated with him. With my brother. - Grief is a funny thing.
1. Desperation

**_Author's Note:_Howdy Y'all. This is my first ever Ninja Turtles fan fic, so I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing yet! Just bare with me. Sorry if it sucks, you're welcome if it rocks. Also, sorry if there are spelling errors. Microsoft Office free trial just recently expired, so no Word! Of course I read it over myself, but you know how easy it is to miss your own mistakes. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

_Of Desperation and Grief_

Living in a world that seems to give just to take away could make anybody bitter, I guess.

I've been thinking about this for a few days now. Although _bitter_ wasn't my first choice. I know grief when I see it, and I've seen it: strong, raw, agonizing, and horrible. But grief really only sticks to few. In others, it changes. Grief can turn to anger, to desperation, to emptiness, and to bitterness. My family has changed, I know. I've changed.

The lair is quiet, and I am where I have been everyday for the past month: sitting in the dojo, where I should be meditating, but instead fill my head with empty thoughts, thoughts of my broken family, and dreams and wishes, pleas, to go back in time and change everything about that night.

Because it never should have happened. It wasn't meant to happen. There's no way -- why would they be given something so precious, just so it could be taken away as abruptly and painfully as that?

I hear movement outside the door, but I do not turn, or even open my eyes to look. I know it's Raph; his heavy, tired footsteps give him away. It's not often that I hear him moving around anymore at any other time besides just before sunrise. He hasn't been home during the night at all, ever since that night. He tries to sneak out, but it's useless. I don't sleep. I hear him leave, and I hear him come home. I don't know exactly what he does, but I've seen the blood stains in the bathtub (none of it his), and I've seen the broken tip of his sai. Normally I think he'd at least try to hide the evidence by scrubbing the tub, but I guess he doesn't really care. The first night he walked out, and through my hazy mind I asked him where he was going. He muttered something about revenge, and I left it at that. While I worry for his safety, my desire to have every one of those bastards dead prevents me from stopping him.

I know I couldn't do it. From grief he went to anger and bitterness. He has the fuel and the determination to go after them, to slaughter them without even breaking a sweat. I don't even have the energy to walk from here to my room.

I feel a shiver run down my spine when I think about what Mikey would do if he went after them. He would probably walk up to them, sit down, and let them decapitate him. Atleast he wouldn't have to live with the grief that he is now. Mikey's transition was the most unsettling. He is no longer Mikey, but an empty body of a mutant turtle that none of us have ever met before. There is no more laughter, no more jokes, no more smiles, no more Mikey. He stays in his room, day and night, and have left my father and I seriously worried that he will die in there of starvation or dehydration.

My father is a whole other story. He tried to keep us together, to keep us whole, but in order to do that I guess he'd have to be whole himself. He looks decades older. He moves slower than before, and after realizing that we were not going to heal as swiftly and as quickly as he hoped we would, he keeps to himself in his room more. However, of course, he leaves his door open at all times, inviting us to come in and work our way through our grief.

Maybe he does not realize that at least two of his sons are no longer suffering from grief, and therefore cannot recover.

I think back to that night very often, to see how it could have been prevented. Of course I've thought of many: we hadn't gone out, we'd taken another route, we'd gone home earlier. Those were my first thoughts, but then I started to think more realistically. We'd ended up in the same situation, but had prevented what had taken our home and shaken it beyond repair.

I knew I shouldn't have been that close to the edge of that building, and I still don't remember why I was. Raph and Mikey were on the other end of the building, fighting. He was beside me, and they were approaching us. We were forced to step back. I had been too busy concentrating on how we were going to get around them and away from the edge of the building. I've never lost track of my surroundings in a fight before, not ever. So why did I that night? No matter how hard I slam my palms to my forehead, and how hard I kick and wail and scream, I cannot figure out why I had been so unprepared, and foolish.

He had been ready to defend himself in case any of them leapt and attacked. He had not been prepared, however, to have to whip around and grab my arm to prevent me from falling to the street below.

And if the world could turn to slow motion, if every sound could be emphasized and beat, beat into my eardrums, their shrillness causing me to cringe, it happened then.

When he turned, pulling me back steady on my feet, and into the awaiting katana held by our enemy.

His back was to me, and I did not realize, did not register what had happened until I saw the blade, covered in the blood of my beloved brother, removed, and his hands move to clutch the hole in his stomach.

I moved slowly, mechanically, to his side, and saw his face. He stared ahead, his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes wide, in a shocked expression. He looked down, and removed his hands, to get a better look, as if to believe what he was seeing. He replaced his hands, looked straight ahead again, and then turned his head, looking straight at me.

His eyes penetrated my soul, making my entire body freeze up, even more than it had been.

I stood, my own mouth slack, and did not even realize time moving, until suddenly, he fell to his knees.

The entire world turned on once again, and his sudden movement turned on all my senses, turned on my mind, and made me truly realize what had just happened.

I had not even wondered why I had not been attacked in those few seconds I spent in a world alone with my injured brother. I had put together later the blood surrounding us and the sais in necks.

But at that time, the only thing that I knew was the shivering body that lay in my arms, the wound beneath my hands, and the sharp, uneven breaths that caused the body to jerk under the pressure that I applied.

My brother, my little brother, one filled with so much intelligence and curiosity, was dying. My gentle, caring, and pacifist brother, whom I loved with all my heart, dying.

Because of me.

I begged him, begged him not to go, and I held him as close as I possibly could. My brothers were beside us in minutes, having used no restraint against the enemies that were stupid enough to stay behind, while the other half of them ran for their lives. Raph charged at us, and threw himself to his knees. Once he reached us, he seemed to realized that he had no idea what to do. He lightly touched our injured brother's arm and was helpless to do anything except whisper his name in a tone I never thought possible to come out of his mouth. Mikey however, approached us slowly and cautiously, as if he was expecting us to jump out and yell '_surprise!' _He kneeled just as slowly, tears already streaming down his face, although he made no sound.

I paid them no notice however, and I sat clutching and rocking our brother, all at the same time trying to stop the blood that flowed out of him like a river. I whispered to him, told him to stay awake, told him to hold on, and, what makes my stomach churn the most with guilt now -- I told him it would be alright. That he would be alright. He lay there, his barely open eyes looking at me as I spoke to him, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak, but only succeeding in groaning. My whispers became chocked sobs, desperation lacing every syllable to escape my mouth. I held him tighter as his breathing became almost none existent, as his entire body relaxed and became too weak to shiver as it had been. I still begged him to hold on, even as I watched his last breath escape his body, and as his eyes that had stared into mine, shut, never to open again.

I don't remember much after that. When my brother had died, I continued to rock him back and fourth. I clutched him even tighter and hid my face in his chest. I remember crying so hard that I was almost physically ill.

We made it back to the lair somehow. I went in to tell Splinter before letting Mikey and Raph bring his body in the lair. They'd waited outside I remember, because I told them too.

I hadn't been able to control myself when I told Sensei what had happened. He held me and cried as well, and I was so ashamed that I was not even strong enough to explain to my master of how I had failed him, of how I had let his precious son die.

I squeeze my eyes shut as my mind returns to the present, but a single tear escapes, so I wipe it away violently. I am frustrated. Frustrated with my incompetence, frustrated with my family, frustrated with my weakness, and frustrated... frustrated with him. With my brother.

A sob escapes my lips, but I do not realize it until after. My grief is changing. The pit in my stomach changes to something else.

I pound my fists on the floor infront of me repeatedly. I can feel myself losing control as desperation fills my soul.

My sobs are louder, more choked, and I am finding it hard to take a breath.

I can't take it anymore. Any of it. I want my family back. I want my brother back. I want myself back.

I continue to pound at the floor. I claw at my torso and at my face.

And I scream, scream as loud as I can.

But my dead home does not stir.

* * *

**_AN: _Sooo.. what do you think? Good? Bad? If I'm gonna write more, I gotta know!! So please review. Constructive critism is more that welcome. I'm not sure if it makes sense though. Raph's grief changed to anger/bitterness, Mikey's to emptiness, and Leo's to desperation. Splinter's still just grieving. Hah! There you go. I was also think of writing another chapter about "that night" with dialogue and stuffs, just to make it clear what happened. Tell me if you'd like that or I won't bother!**


	2. 52 Minutes and the Freezing Cold

**_Author's Note: _Ohmygosh, I've actually done it! I've uploaded a second chapter! And I ended up not doing what I had planned to until I had started typing! Go figure! So yeah... My stand alone one shot is now...not.. a.. one shot. Huh. Always said I'd never go over a chapter, and look what I've done. Anyway, this takes place a month before my first chapter. YOU KNOW HOW IT'S GONNA END, YEAH, but whatever. Makes it all the more tragic, I suppose. Normal night, normal brothers, normal death---What??? Yeah.  
And I'm sorry if I made Mikey too annoying. This is my first time actually writing the characters and what they would say in any situation, so forgive me. **  
**And once again, sorry if there are any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. I did read it over but it's midnight and I'm tired. I am nothing without my Microsoft Word.**

* * *

_Chapter Two_

It was cold and wet and dark.

Just an hour after the rain had stopped, the moon was covered by clouds, only to be eerily released for seconds at a time, as the grey gloom shifted with the earth. If it weren't for the bright lights of the city, the four green ninjas, travelling by rooftop, would be shrouded in complete darkness.

The rooftops were silent, with the exception of huffs and puffs, feet hitting the ground, and the occasional splash of a turtle hitting a puddle. However, that silence was interrupted by an ear piercing, shrill shriek.

"LLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeooooooooo_oooOOOOOOOO_!!!!

"Can we go back home now?? It's cold! I'm tired! I'm wet! My feet are wet, and my ankles are wet, and my 'chucks are wet because my wet feet keep splashing water up to my _FACE, _and then my feet just get _more _wet! Is that even possible?! YES! Because it's happening _right now! _I'm gonna get sick! I'm gonna get ammonia!"

"It's _pneumonia_, Mikey. And we've been out here for, what, 10 minutes?"

"Yeah, Mikey, so for the thousandth time, _shut your mouth!_"

I, Leonardo, the leader of the three opposing forces, only let escape a sigh, as I tried my hardest to ignore my younger brothers, and delve into my own thoughts.

It had been 8 minutes actually, and I didn't bother to tell my youngest brother that we would not be returning home for 52 minutes. Knowing his one track mind, the next thing to distract him would take his mind off of his wet feet and weapons anyway.

The last few days had been boring and uneventful. The rain had been persistant; continuing non stop for what seemed like weeks. None of us had felt like getting wet, so we'd stayed in the sewers every day and night, and with April and Casey gone for the week, not even Raph left. Just an hour ago, however, the local news people had been excitedly talking about the rain finally stopping, and with the increasingly annoying nagging, courtesy Raphael, the four of us had set out on patrol.

Of course, that soon revealed itself as a mistake, with the first drawled out, whiny exclamation of my name, and I was finding the confines of my warm, dry room, very, very tempting.

_"LEO!!"_

"Huuhh...what?" I jumped back into reality, and turned to my now even more annoyed hotheaded brother.

"Geez, fearless, you losing yer touch? I've been talkin' to ya for like 5 minutes!" I looked at my other two brothers who were looking at me quizzically. Guess I really was out of it.

"Oh. Uh, sorry, Raph, what did you say?" I asked, still a bit distracted.

"_I said _are we gonna go over there?!"

"Over where?"

"_THERE!" _He thrust his arm so violently to point in the direction he was talking about, that it looked like he should've pulled every muscle in it.

I looked where he was pointing and saw a robbery happening at the bank just two buildings from us. The police hadn't arrived yet, but there were groups of men dressed in all black running back and forth from it.

I hesitated; from where we were standing, I could see the massive guns that most of them held. If there was one weapon I feared, it was one that could take you down from feet away, and without your knowledge.

"I think Leo might be right." Once again, I jumped. I was confused for a second, and then remembered that my purple banded brother knew everything: I hadn't spoken to express my concern.

"Those guns do look a little... ominous. I've never seen ones like them."

"Oh come on, Donny, they're guns! We've had ta deal with'em b'fore, and we always beat'em! What are you two afraid of now that ya haven't been before?"

"Raph, I--" I began, but was quickly cut off by the ever poignant Michelangelo.

"I say we forget his whole thing, and go home!"

"Shut _UP_, Mikey!"

_"Raph!"_

"No, _YOU _shut up, Rapha-a-e-l!"

_"MIKEY!"_

"Ooh, I'm gonna ram my fist so hard through your shell it'll come out'ya stomach!"

"Oh yeah?? Well I'm gonna shove my freezing cold _FEET _through your shell and _FREEZE _your stomach!"

_"GUYS!"_

"_Get back here you little shi--"_

"WOULD YOU TWO JUST COOL IT!"

"The police are here."

The three of us froze and turned to our quiet, and temporarily forgotten brother. Donatello looked just as he had before the little spat took place. It amazed me how calm and patient he could be, and it was something that I'd wished I'd been able to develop over time, especially after having been named the leader by our Sensei. But Don had always been like that, and he was the one that I went to more than a few times, for help with any problems I had, times when I was feeling down, or just times when I felt like talking to someone who would listen to what I would say, and tell me his own stories in return.

"Oh, great. See what you guys did?! We missed our chance! There ain't nothin' ta do at home, there ain't nothin' ta do out here that you guys _WILL_ do.. What do we have ta do? _DROWN_ ourselves for excitement?"

"Wait a second... What's that?" Don squinted in the dark, and pointed down the alley beside the bank.

"Wha?... _HEY! _One'of'em's gettin' away--_lessgo!!_"

And before I could even inhale in order to protest, Raph had thrown himself across the buildings, and disappeared into the alley.

I took a second to glance at my now sheepish younger brother with a swift disapproving glare.

"Uh.. sorry."

"_AWWWW! _But I'm _still wet!_"

To my pleasure, that last overly dramatic complaint by my youngest brother had ended almost silently, as I hadn't waited long before jumping after Raphael.

Don followed closely behind me, with Mikey a little further back, as he had obviously continued to stare at our disappearing backs in disbelief a little longer than he should have.

When I landed on my feet in the alley, Raph already had the robber cowering against the wall, pulled so far into himself that he formed a ball smaller than I thought any human could make.

"...You think yer some big, strong man stealing money from otha' people, eh? Well let's see how brave you are when I ram my fist through yer skull!"

"Just knock him out and let's go."

"Mike, for the love of God, shut yer--"

Raph froze mid sentence and looked up. I looked around at Mikey and Don, and knew they noticed something, too. I almost panicked; I hadn't noticed a thing until I realized my brothers sensed danger.

What the shell was wrong with me? First I didn't hear Raph talking to me, now I don't even notice when we're in trouble?I had felt off all night, and it was affecting me more than I felt comfortable with.

But then, I heard it. It was so quiet it might as well have not been there, but it was. The soft pitter patter of feet. A lot of feet.

And suddenly, they emerged from the shadows: from the roof above, to the smallest crevises in the alley, Foot soldiers stepped out to greet us.

Raphael had suddenly forgotten about his precious man-on-the-run, and slowly unsheathed his weapons along with the rest of us.

The alley was silent, save for the whimpers of the forgotten criminal.

But the silence was soon broken as the frightened man began to frantically crawl away in order to escape.

The silence was broken by the sickening sounds of a dagger lodging in a human neck, and the thump of a thief hitting the earth, heavy, still.

There were only 13 minutes remaining.

This was not a good night.

* * *

**Soo... did you like it? I just threw myself out there with this, it was not planned at all. Reviews will answer that question!**


	3. Train Wreck of Thought

_**Author's Note: **_**Ok, just so you know, when I wrote that last chapter, I was kinda tired. When I wrote my last AN, I was half asleep. So, it was a little crazy, and I forgot half the stuff I was going to type.**

**First of all, ****THANK YOU****so much for the great reviews! I felt awful when I realized that I had forgotten to acknowledge them. I really do appreciate that you guys like this story.  
I noticed that some of you got a little confused with my second chapter, so I just wanted to point out that ****the AN at the top of the page mentions that this takes place a month before the first chapter.****LOL! Don't worry, I hardly ever read author's notes myself. So in that case, I suppose you won't see this either. Oh well! haha**

**ALTHOUGH I had only planned to do a oneshot about this fight, I kinda went nuts and made it longer. And even when it became longer, I was still going to make it a oneshot. However, it was passed midnight, and I had been up the previous morning at 4 for work, and I had to wake up again that morning at 4 as well. So instead of waiting to finish it, I just decided to make it a twoshot. Needless to say I was a zombie that day at work, and had to consume 3 cups of coffee in order to stay on my feet. Heh.**

**I'm really, really hoping I haven't ruined my first chapter with the content in these last two. I know that ch.2 doesn't really fit in the whole tragedy/angst genre, but the end will, hopefully, if I write it right. Hah. Write it right.**

**I also realized something kinda funny. I'm writing in the first person of my least favourite ninja turtle. Not that I don't like him at all, but Leo's just always been near the bottom of my list. For some reason, I was drawn to writing this story from his perspective. It also seemed the easiest, for reasons I'm not sure of. Another funny thing I noticed until it was too late was that I have NO IDEA how to write Donatello. Meaning, his dialogue. So just to warn you, you won't be reading any tech/scientist/doctor mumbo jumbo in this fic, cause I have absolutely no idea how to. I don't know how some of you people do it, and I have no idea what he's saying when you do!**

**ANOTHER FUNNY THING! (my life just seems to be filled with comedy!) I don't know how to write fight scenes. So don't expect much there, either.**

**Oh, and P.S. to Goddess of Idun: thanks for pointing out my wording mistake in chapter one! I've changed it, cause after you mentioned it, it started to bug me, too! LOL!**

**And I always forget this:**

**Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN!**

**But anyway, enough of my ramblings, or this note will be longer than the fic!**

**Enjoy the final chapter of **_**Of Desperation and Grief.**_

* * *

_Train Wreck of Thought_

"Crud."

Raphael had quietly voiced the thought going through all of our heads as we stood ready and still in the dark alley, surrounded by a mass of at least 60 equally as still Foot soldiers. I was just grateful that it hadn't started to rain again.

My eyes swept over our enemies, and lingered on my three brothers. As with every fight we've ever had, fear for their safety began to build up in my chest and gut.

At least these guys didn't have guns.

We all remained still for a few seconds longer, until I saw a small movement at the corner of my eye. In half a second, I had swung both my arms around, taking the Foot soldier slowly approaching me to my right out of commission.

And with that, movement exploded in the alleyway.

I had quickly lost sight of my brothers in the mess of ninjas surrounding me, and a cold sweat broke out on my body. It felt as though my mind had been floating above me, just out of my reach. I had been distracted all day, and in a situation such as this, that was unacceptable. So, I put all my focus on taking down every ninja to come at me. I knew my brothers could take care of themselves, and if they really needed me, I'd hear about it.

Every time we finally seemed to get the upper hand, more ninja came down on us from above. If this continued to happen, we would be taken down in no time. I was beginning to get frustrated with their advantage, so I did the only thing I could think of.

"_UP_, guys. Go up!" I yelled to my brothers, hoping they could hear me. At least we'd be able to take them all on at once, instead of slowly tiring while taking down small numbers at a time.

With that, I jumped up to the side of the building on my right, and began to swing myself up by the stairs that rested on the side of it. At the corner of my eye, I saw one, two, and then, with a sigh of relief, my third brother begin to climb up after me. As soon as my feet hit the rooftop, I swung my arms, taking down every one of our enemies that were close to me.

The sounds of the battle filled my ears and a throbbing headache began to form. I caught a glimpse of Raphael smashing two of the ninjas' heads together and then knocking another one out with his foot, and I saw Michelangelo hook the arms of two others with his nunchaku and swing them onto their backs. A bit a ways behind me, I spotted Donatello swing his bo and take out two of the ninjas, and then jerk it back, hitting another behind him in the gut.

And then, as I was watching my younger brother, I did something I haven't done while fighting since I was a kid, training in the dojo.

I tripped.

I had backed up and stumbled on one of the fallen Foot soldiers, and, no pun intended, lost my footing. Before I knew it, I was sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the armed black figures that loomed above me.

I was dumbstruck. Not just because I was about to be cut down, but because I had actually lost control of my own feet. My balance. I only felt the handle of one katana; the other one obviously lying close to my side, lost along with my instinct.

I suddenly realized what was about to happen when one of the ninja raised his arms, the steel cruelly shimmering in the bright city lights. I knew I shoud've raised my own blade, or atleast attempted to get back on my feet instead of watching what was happening, mouth agape, but when coming face to face with Death himself, one does not think clearly. The only thing I could do was shut my eyes, and wait for the end to come. I waited.. and waited some more.. and just as I realized nothing was happening, someone grabbed me under my arms from behind and began to drag me back. My heals rubbed painfully against the concrete as Donatello's frantic voice broke through my frozen senses.

_"LEO!!"_

My eyes snapped open as I found myself still being dragged by my brother. I immediately struggled to regain my footing and took my weight off of him, as we were quickly being surrounded by more of the Foot then before because of my sudden weakness.

As soon as I was upright, Don clutched his weapon with both hands and threw a panicked glance at me.

"Are you alright??" His bo connected with one of the humans' heads. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, don't worry." I swung my blades at the legs of two of our enemies. I didn't tell him that I had lost focus on my surroundings. Like he needed more to worry about right now. But, of course, he knows there's more to it.

"Are you sure? You didn't say anything when I asked you the first time. Did you even notice me shake you? Or when I gave you your other katana??"

"You..what?" I knocked one of the ninja out with the butt of my katana and glanced at my hands. I hadn't really noticed even though I had been using them, but I had both of my weapons.

This was getting increasingly frustrating. Why hadn't I noticed? I may have been shocked, but I hadn't hit my head. At least I don't think I hit my head.. No, there's no bump, and it doesn't hurt when I rub it. Why, of all nights, had my senses started to fail me? Was it because we'd been cooped up in the lair for a week? That shouldn't matter. I trained with my brothers, as well as the extra training I did everyday. In fact, I had trained even more then before, because this week had been particularly boring. I'd meditated just as much, and I had been just as able to. I just had this weird feeling. Maybe I was getting sick. Once we get home, I'll ask Don about it. But are losing your concentration and train of thought symptoms of anything?

Unfortunately, I don't seem to realize this loss of concentration and train of thought until it gets me into trouble. I suppose I had just been standing there staring at my purple clad brother, which is absolutely _fantastic _while in the middle of a battle. Before I even realized what was happening, a foot collided with my chest and I went flying back. The only thing I did right though was that I remembered to keep a strong grip on my blades.

I landed hard and a bit dazed, but this time I did not hesitate to throw my body back onto its feet. Although I know I shouldn't have, I jumped a bit when Donny landed beside me. The look he gave me made me want to sink into the concrete.

He was scared, but, what made me even more ashamed was what that look also showed me.

He was confused.

I knew now that the only thing I could do to finish this fight as quickly as possible was to just concentrate on the ninja approaching us, and how to get through them safely.

As they took at step toward us, we took a step back.

This happened until, to my horror, my foot continued to go down when it shouldn't have. I almost tripped, but Don quickly grabbed my arm to steady me.

We were at the edge of the building with dozens of Foot soldiers surrounding us from every possible angle.

With my weapons raised, I looked for Raph and Mikey to make sure they were still healthy. I could hardly see them, but they had been pushed to the next building, and were each taking on more than enough of our enemies at once.

If we just charged forward, the ones to our left and right would just take us down as the ones in front of us fell. They would also immediately flood behind us, and take us down fom there. They were still walking towards us; slowly, and tauntingly. There were too many of them, and I was rattling my brain trying to think of any way out.

I was getting sick of these glare wars, these frozen battles. Why don't they just charge us and make the decision for me?

Directly below me a horn honked, the volume increased by the tension on the roof.

And, true to form, I jumped.

Back.

I felt my body begin to plunge, and I knew that this was it.

I closed my eyes, waiting to feel the sensation of falling, and the (hopefully) sudden death that would directly follow.

But, once again, that was not what I felt.

A hand gripped my upper arm hard, and a weight pulled me forward, back onto the roof, and back onto my feet. I stood there for a second, with my arms out infront of me, steadying myself and fighting down the sickness that I could feeling climbing my throat. At that moment, I had forgotten where I was.

But when my memory flew back to me full forced, I whipped my head up and raised my one remaining weapon.

My eyes flew to my brother, who was not standing beside me like before, but was now in front of me, much too close to one of the Foot ninjas. It was then that I realized that his arms were at his side, and his bo lie on the concrete of the roof, under his right hand.

Before I could act on my realization, the ninja standing infront of Donatello moved, pulling his arm back.

The katana reached my line of vision, and the scarlet blood dripping off the blade made my own blood freeze. Donny's hands moved up, and rested where the blade had just been

It was then that my mind truly registered what had just happened.

My younger brother had been stabbed.

I did not even realized that I had moved, but I was suddenly beside Donatello, and I looked at his face. He was staring, straight ahead, his mouth was just slightly open, and his eyes were wide in a shocked expression. He looked down and removed his hands for a better look, as if to believe what had just happened. He looked up again, and then turned his face to me.

His eyes burned through my soul, setting my frozen blood on fire, and I felt that sickness return, and climb up my throat with twice the force.

Then, suddenly, he fell to his knees, and the world turned on once more, as my brain finally, after taking the time it needed, allowed me to do what I had to.

As I leapt for my brother, I could vaguely see the soldiers that were surrounding us drop to the ground. I only had eyes for my brother though, and although he was a mere three steps away from me, it felt like it had taken hours to reach him.

I threw myself to my own knees in front of him and grasped his arms. I took a second to look down at his injury and did everything in my power not to be sick. I wanted to move him away from the battle, but I didn't want to hurt him more. My mind was made up quickly to stay where we were, however, when he suddenly fell forward. I threw my arms around his shell and adjusted him so that he was lying on my lap. I pressed my hand down onto his wound as hard as I could while my other arm was holding him under his shoulders.

The world around us disappeared when his eyes fluttered open and looked into mine.

"Don..Donny, just--just hang on, bud. It's okay, you're going to be okay, don't worry."

A sob leapt up my throat suddenly and I pressed my lips to his forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut in a feeble attempt to keep the tears burning my eyes to stay where they were.

I looked at his face again, and he was still looking at me. I knew he wanted to say something, but I also knew that he couldn't. But impossibility never stopped him from trying anything before, so why should it now? He opened his mouth, and his eyelids lowered a bit, but after trying for a couple seconds, no sound escaped him. So he shut his mouth once again, and closed his eyes.

"Don't--don't try to talk, bro, just--just save your strength. But stay awake, ok? Just stay with me, please Donny, please. Stay awake."

He was shivering in my arms, and I automatically held him even closer to me, trying in vain to keep him warm, even though I knew, somewhere at the back of my scattered mind, that it wouldn't matter. His breath was hitching in his throat, and his body jerked with it.

The tears burned hotter, and I felt the tickle of one escape and run down my face as my own breath began to hitch in sync with my dying brother's. I felt useless and dirty; I should be making him better, taking his pain away for myself. I am the leader, the elder brother. This should not have happened under my watch. I could feel his body growing limper by the minute, and I grew more and more desperate. His open eyes were fluttering, and I wanted nothing more than to force them open with my own fingers.

"Donny, Donny, don't close your eyes. Look at me. Just look at me, Donny. That's right, good. Just--just concen--concentrate on my voice. Stay awake. We'll get you home, I promise. I promise you'll be ok."

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, but I needed him to hold on, and I needed to convince myself that we would be able to get him home before it was too late, and that we would be able to save him.

I had not realized that the fighting had stopped until I saw Raph running past his sais, which were embedded in two of the fallen ninja, and fall to his knees across from me, on Donny's other side.

He gently placed him hand on Donatello's arm, and with a voice as soft and as light, but at the same time heavy and powerful, as the wind, he whispered,

"Donny..."

I could vaguely hear the heavy and slow, hesitant, footsteps of our baby brother approaching us. Unlike earlier this evening, he was now silent. He slowly lowered himself to his knees and I could see the line of tears that were streaming down his face.

I quickly looked down at our injured brother, and when I saw that his eyes were closed, I lifted my hand to gently tap his face, leaving a splotch of blood on his cheek, then I immediately put my hand back onto the wound.

"Donny, open your eyes. Donny, come on, open them. Donny? Please, bro, you need to stay awake. We're going to leave right now and bring you home. B-but I want to see you open your eyes."

I sighed a bit in relief when those deep grey orbs fluttered opened, but I choked back a sob when his face scrunched up in pain. His shivering had slowed to a stop, as his body was now too weak to support any movement. When he looked at me through more than half closed eyes, my tears now escaped uncounted as I knew that I couldn't stop what was going to happen.

But if I learned anything from Donatello, it's that you shouldn't stop trying, even if you know something is impossible.

So I resorted to my last possible option.

I begged.

"Donny, Donny please. _Please_ stay awake! I'm sorry! I'm s-so sorry Donny, but--but you need stay with me! Please, we need you bro, we _need _you. Just.. stay awake, you'll be ok, you'll be o--ok, you'll be ok. Donny."

I lowered my head to his forehead once again, and realized that I had been rocking him. I could hear his every breath as it escaped him, each one fighting to get out before they were trapped within the body that held them. But those breaths were slowing as they became just as weak as their creator.

"Donny..."

I continued to rock my beloved brother as his body relaxed in my arms, and my frantic pleas turned to desperate whispers.

"Donny, please..."

I could feel the faint breeze of my brothers breath hit my neck, and, just as if they had never been there, they stopped.

"_Donny!_"

For the first time that night, I knew what had happened right away. The one time when I would have willed myself to lose all train of thought, it stayed with me.

"No, no, no..no, no..

Donny."

I felt myself break down completely, and I held my brother with such force that I was afraid I would break him in half.

I'm not sure how long I had cried, but by the time my sobs had slowed, I had had to let Raph take our younger brother's body so I could steady my stomach as I held myself up with my hands while I knelt over the edge of the building that we had been so close to.

I thought about how we would get home. I thought about the closest manhole to us. I thought about the fact that I had no idea how we would put him to rest. I thought about our father. I thought about telling him. How could we tell him? How would _I_ tell him? I knew I had to do it. My brothers' safety is _my _responsibility. I was supposed to keep them safe. But I was stupid, and unfocused.

And my brother had paid the price.

I stood up, slow and shaky, and my knees, who had received a beating as they supported mine and my brother's weight for so long, threatened to give out in my weakened state.

I turned to Raph and my eyes lingered on Donatello's body. I was forced to quickly look away though, as my tears threatened to return. There was no time for that; we had to get home before the sun rose.

I walked over to Raphael slowly. On the way, I grabbed Mikey's arms and pulled him up. I could not look into his eyes, could not face the horrors that lay in them, and, in my own clouded mind, the disappointment that I had convinced myself would be there, although I knew it was not.

I had tried to convince Raph that I could carry Don myself, but he would have none of it. So, we each took one of his arms, put it over our shoulders, and used our other arms to wrapped around his waist.

And with the body of our brother hanging between us, we began our trek home, with Mikey lingering behind.

* * *

After what felt like hours, we had finally made it to the door of the lair, and I froze.

"W-wait.. We can't just--just take him in there, like this.. not without Master Splinter.. knowing first. You two stay out here, with Donny. I'll go tell him."

I watched Raph and Mikey look at each other.

"You sure, Leo? I mean.. We could go in there with you.. Or I could. Mikey, you'll stay out here with'im, right?"

"NO!" I could not put this burden on their shoulders. Not when I was leader. With that title came those kinds of responsibilities. It was meant to make sure they did not have to live with them. "I'll go. You two just stay out here until I tell you to come in."

Without waiting for the inevitable protests that would follow, I quickly stepped into the lair and closed the door behind me.

I could see the candle light flicker out of my master's slightly open door. He was up, waiting for us to get home.

He always said that he could feel our emotions; that he knew when we were in trouble.

I wonder if he had felt something. Anything, while his third son lay dying, while his last breath escaped his body.

I slowly started forward, but I was hesitant. I did not want to have to do this, did not want to see my father's face when I told him he had lost a son to a horrible and preventable death.

Before I was close to ready (though I knew I'd never be), I had reached my father's door and slowly walked into the room.

Lit candles surrounded my father as he sat cross legged with his eyes closed, and their flickering flames bathed him in an eerie glow. I hesitated, but then my father's voice tore through the quiet just as that blade had torn through my brother.

"Something heavy is troubling you, my son."

It was not a question, but a statement, as my sensei had clearly noticed my distress.

I opened and closed my extremely dry mouth more times than I could count, but I just could not put what I had to say into words.

"Y--yes, sen--senei. We were out, and--and, we--we were out...and--"

I stopped when I realized I was getting nowhere. I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and took a deep breath. When I reopened my eyes, I could see my father's head now raised, and his eyes boring into the top of my head. As I desperately tried to line up my words, I realized that I was shaking, and my mind drifted back to when I had been holding my brother as he shook, and the feel of his warm, sticky blood covering me. And with that, every word that I had finally put into place had been rescrambled.

"Leonardo, look at me."

I immediately obeyed, and looked at my father, but not in his eyes.

"What has happened to put you in such a state?"

"Father, I--I failed you. I have failed you."

"What is it that you speak of, my son? How have you failed me?"

"I--I didn't--I'm sorry! I'm--I'm.."

Any attempt that I had made to stay calm had been stomped on and ripped to pieces, and I broke down. I had broken down before I had even told my father what I had done to him, what I had done to our family.

I was a failure.

"I--I didn't..I don't know how--I just, I didn't see--and..if I had just...I don't know how--"

"Leonardo. My son. Stop. _Leonardo_, stop."

I stopped mid word, and my head snapped back up to my father.

"Tell me the outcome of whatever mistake you think you have made, and we will be ready for explanations later. Take another breath, and tell me, without hesitation, and without thought."

I closed my eyes and lowered my head again, taking one deep breath.. and then another. I did this for a while, I'm not sure how long. When I looked up again, my father was sitting, patient but tense, as he waited for what I was to say.

So I said it, in my quietest whisper,

"Donny's gone. He's--he's dead, Master Splinter."

I saw every feature of my father's face slowly drop, and the fur covering his body bristle.

"I'm sorry, I don't--"

The control that I had gained was once again lost, and every explanation was forced back down my throat, and replaced by broken, tortured sobs. Every burnt, scraped, and ripped part of my soul attacked everything in me, and I could not stop it.

Once again, I don't know how long I had been in that emotional state, but I do remember feeling the warmth of my father's body press into me, in an attempt to comfort. I tried, albeit weakly, to push him away, because I did not deserve his sympathy. But I knew that he needed it just as much as I did, when I felt his tears mingle with mine.

When I had recovered enough, and made sure my father was ready, I had told Raph and Mikey to bring him in. I watched silently as they carried our dead brother's broken and bloodied body in and rest him on the couch, as my father tended to him, cleaned him and touched his face, as if he were just laying there, awake and alive.

"..him, Leo? ...Leo?"

The sudden intrusion of my youngest brother's voice, although very quiet, made me jump.

I had lost count of how many times I had done that this past evening.

"What, Mikey?"

"I said, where are we going to... I mean, how are we going to... you know."

"I don't know, Mikey."

For a second, my brother just looked at me, though I did not look at him. I didn't mean to torture him like this, but I did not want to think about my brother's final resting place. We should not have to think of that now.

"Oh. Ok." And he turned and walked back to the couch.

I sighed, and looked around the lair. The T.V., the fridge, the water, the heating, the security, the lighting, the medical equipment. Things I'd never had to worry about before were now (and it felt quite literally) lying on my chest. I thought of the nights that I had spent with Donny, the talks that we'd had, how many times I had felt something rise off my shoulders when my brother explained things that I felt were bad, in a way that made them good.

My quiet, smart, gentle brother. The sane voice in our heads. But that voice had been silenced, and our lives had just become even more disjointed and unfair.

"... now, my son."

I jumped.

"Leonardo."

"Y-es Master Splinter?"

"Please, go to bed. Try to get some rest. You are heavy on your feet."

I was going to protest, but the look my father gave me forced me to comply, and I walked to my room, just behind my brothers. I stopped in my tracks, however, as I realised I had been just about to pass his room. I took a few steps, and stopped at the door. I didn't not want to, but I couldn't help but peek inside.

The room was relatively clean. The bed was unmade from the previous night, and there were papers littering the desk. Papers filled with equations, and thought.

Thought had been something that had abandoned me that day. Or, at least, every thought that I should have had was replaced by a useless one. I had not been able to concentrate, or focus.

I do not think Donatello had ever experienced such a feeling. He was always thinking, and coming up with the answers that we needed. If it weren't for his ever increasing knowledge, we would not have the things that we have today. He concentrated until he made whatever he was working on perfect, and he focused on what was going on around him.

I had not.

In fact, one of the only times I had ever seen him confused had been caused by my own lack of focus, just tonight, minutes before we had lost him forever.

I turned, and slowly continued my walk to my room.

I opened the door and closed it behind me. I blinked when I realized my mistake.

There was a bathtub, a toilet, and a sink in the room.

The day Donatello died was the day I lost my mind.

* * *

**PHEW! Well, that literally took me all day! I started it around 11:30 am, approximately, and it is now 9:06 pm. I stopped for a couple hours though, of course, for my Christmas concert. In the last chapter's AN I mentioned that when I started typing, I couldn't stop. Well, it happened again, to an even BIGGER extreme. I think I have some kind of syndrome. I'm a compulsive typer. LOL! But anywhoo, this is the end!! It's very wordy, I know. I just hope I didn't go into any pointless details. I hope you enjoyed this three chapter ride as much as I did! **

**And don't forget to review, of course!!!! I dunno, is tragedy/angst my genre, or should I pick something else??**


End file.
